


Fury

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Series: Escape [1]
Category: Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 04:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10868646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: Dick can’t figure out for the life of him why his littlest brother is so upset.





	Fury

**Author's Note:**

> With the announcement of Nightwing: New Order, I decided to explore what that means for a bunch of vigilante kids whose best friends are, you know, metas. Focus is going to be on Jon and Damian, and maybe Tim and Kon, haven’t decided yet. This gon be a lil miniseries in New Order-verse hoorah. With New Order taking place in 12 years, everyone’s obviously 12 years old, so Damian is 25. All the batkids live together because Dick told/made them. Dick’s just a happy, sometimes oblivious lil dictator. Jon and Conner have been in prison for six months to a year, after being in hiding for most of the time, seeing Damian and Tim rarely. Dick isn’t surprised by Damian’s actions, but isn’t happy about them, clearly, and isn’t above punishing Jon to punish Damian.

“See you tomorrow, Commander.”

Dick nodded at the following salute, as he entered the elevator that would take him to the penthouse. He watched for a moment, in silent content, the operation he’d created over the last twelve years. The soldiers, the safety he’d created for the world. For his family.

If only everything could be as easy as this was.

The doors closed and he headed up to his home.

When they dinged and opened once more, a delicious smell hit his nostrils. He practically jogged into the kitchen, where Jason and Cassandra were busy preparing dinner, Jason at the stove and Cassandra chopping vegetables.

Tim sat on the sofa, lazily reading a book.

Dick smiled at them all, and asked: “Where’s Damian?”

Tim seemed to stiffen, but his face still seemed relaxed when he looked up. “Where do you think?”

“Still in his room?” Dick almost pouted, glancing into the hallway, at the closed door at the end of the hall. He could hear the low beat of music. “It’s been _ages_. He has to come out of there eventually.”

“He comes out when he knows you’re not here.” Jason hummed. Dick looked over with a frown, but Jason didn’t back down. Just sarcastically said: “I can’t _imagine_ why.”

“Jason.” Dick warned. “Don’t start.”

Jason held his hands up in surrender. “I just spit the truth, Dickie.”

“Well, when no one asked for it, don’t.” Dick almost growled. If Jason or anyone else was going to answer, they didn’t get the chance, as suddenly the low bass from Damian’s room ceased, and the door opened.

He was dressed in a heavy coat, with a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, and a bag hooked around his wrist.

“Hi little brother.” Dick called as Damian closed his door. Damian glanced up, and scowled upon seeing who it was. Ignored him as he walked by to get to the kitchen. “…You’re going to have to speak to me _eventually_ , you know.”

“I don’t.” Damian hummed, waiting by the counter as Cassandra reached into the fridge, grabbed a picnic basket out of it, and handed it to Damian. “This penthouse is big enough that I don’t have to see you ever if I don’t have to.”

Dick sighed as Damian went to pass him again. He hooked his hand around Damian’s arm as he passed. “Damian-”

Damian yanked himself away. “Do _not_ touch me.”

“Then _talk_ to me.” Dick tried, stepping after him. “Damian, tell me what’s wrong.”

“If I have to tell you, then you’re _stupider_ than I thought.” Damian hissed. Dick pursed his lips as Damian continued to the door, lifting his arm and pressing a button on his watch as soon as Damian’s hand was on the knob.

The lock clicking into place echoed through the apartment.

“Dick…” Jason murmured. “Don’t do this, man. Just…just let him leave.”

“Not until he tells me what’s wrong.” Dick said firmly, staring at Damian’s back. Damian attempted to twist the knob anyway, pulling it with all of his might. “Damian, the sooner you tell me, the sooner you can go out.”

“I’m not a _child_.” Damian spat. “Let me out, or this is holding me against my will. And despite your reign, that is still a _law_ you have to abide by.”

“Damian.”

“Bite me.”

“ _Damian_.” Harsher now. His commander voice, and they all knew it. “What’s wrong.”

But still, it was Damian, and defiance was practically his middle name.

“Fuck you.”

“Damian!” Tim called, sounding worried. “Don’t!”

“Damian, why are you so angry?” Dick tried again anyway. “Why do you hate me so much, all of the sudden?”

Damian’s shoulders visibly tightened. “Why?” Damian hissed. “You want to know _why_ I hate you, Grayson?”

And slowly, Damian turned back, eyes furious and heartbroken like no one had ever seen before. His breath was shaky and heavy, like he’d just run ten miles. His grip on the doorknob was so tight, he could have broken it, or ripped it from its socket.

Softly, almost calmly:

_“Because you took Jonathan away from me.”_

Dick just blinked boredly.

“Because you took the only person I’ve ever _fucking_ cared about in my whole life, and threw him in a goddamn prison.” Damian continued, voice growing angrier by the second. “Because you sent him to prison for _existing_ , and had scientists _experiment_ on him.”

Dick sighed loudly and rolled his eyes. “It was for your own good, Damian, you kno-”

“No, it wasn’t for my own good!” Damian screamed. “It was because you’re on a fucking power trip!”

“I just want to keep you safe. And you know that metas are _not_ -”

“It’s because Jon was the only person I loved more than you, and you got fucking _jealous_.” Damian continued. “So you took him and his brother away. Had them experimented on, and _tortured_ , just because you _didn’t like them_. And I know Drake will never say it, but he hates you too. He hates you just as much as I do for what you did to Conner.”

“Let me guess, he’s just smarter than you and keeps his mouth shut, right?” Dick countered smugly. “Now Damian, I was not _jealous_ of Jon or Conner. They weren’t good for you, for _either_ of you, and they weren’t safe. Now excuse me, if I _refuse_ to lose any of my family again because of a bunch of Kryptonians or metahumans.”

Damian stepped forward, and they all sensed a fight coming. “Jon would _never_ -”

“Got it.” Tim suddenly cut off. Both Dick and Damian glanced over to him, and saw he was now on his tablet. He looked up wearily. “I got it. Damian, the door’s open. Just…just go, before you say anything else.”

Damian clamped his mouth shut, spun around and practically ran towards the door.

Dick took one step after him. Asked worriedly: “Damian, where are you going, anyway?”

Damian jerked the door open, before glancing over his shoulder. “To go see my Beloved, of course.”

The door slammed, and there was a moment of silence, before Dick turned towards Jason.

Jason sighed. “He goes to the prison once a week to see him. I’m shocked your little Nightwing cronies haven’t told you so already. He’s been doing it since you threw Jon and Conner in there.”

Dick nodded slowly, then looked curiously back at Tim. “Do you ever go?”

Tim swallowed. “No.”

“Does Damian deliver things for you?”

“…Only sometimes.”

“Okay.” He smiled as he stepped towards the sofa, and left a long kiss against Tim’s temple. “I’m not mad, Timmy. I promise. Don’t worry. I’m just glad you’re smarter than our little brother.”

“He’ll…” Tim almost whispered. “He’ll see the light eventually, I suppose.”

“Hm.” Dick muttered as he stood. He suddenly turned back towards the bedrooms, pressing buttons on his watch and opening the holographic screen. The other three’s hearts sank when they saw him open the blueprints and security feeds of the meta prison where the Kent boys were being held. “We can only hope.”

As he reached the corner, he turned back only once, with a cheerful, friendly smile. “Call me when dinner’s ready, okay?”

“…Yeah.” Jason whispered, leaning into the comforting embrace Cassandra immediately offered. He glanced over at Tim, as the younger slumped exhaustedly back into the couch. “Will do, Dick.”


End file.
